


X Marks the Spot

by SynonymRoll648



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Art, Calla and Grady are only mentioned, Cuddles, Edaline is only mentioned, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, Painting, Takes Place During Nightfall, Tickles, forehead kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 09:14:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30002625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SynonymRoll648/pseuds/SynonymRoll648
Summary: "And you love it.” His grin shifted into something softer, something that made her stomach tighten. “So what do you need, Foster? A shoulder to cry on? A good old-fashioned cuddle? Or should we go back to brainstorming my favor?”(-Shannon Messenger, Nightfall, Pages 788-789)“Honestly? A normal day,” Sophie answered, finally plopping down onto the grass beside him.
Relationships: Keefe Sencen & Sandor (Keeper of the Lost Cities), Sophie Foster & Sandor (Keeper of the Lost Cities), Sophie Foster/Keefe Sencen
Kudos: 10





	X Marks the Spot

_Keefe was waiting under Calla’s Panakes when Sophie leaped back to Havenfield after a final lecture from Bronte. And Sandor stood beside him, for once not looking annoyed by his existence._

_“I figured you were having a rough morning,” Keefe said, patting a spot on the grass beside him. “And since I still have a few more days without Ro driving me crazy, I thought I’d bring you a cheer-up present, since that’s apparently a_ thing _.”_

 _He held out his arms._ _“_

_Um…” Sophie didn’t see a gift._

_Keefe smirked. “Foster, Foster, Foster - always so adorably oblivious._ I’m _the gift. I’m all yours today - though I might be willing to extend my servitude if you call me the Gift Master.”_

_Sophie rolled her eyes as she smiled. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”_

_"And you love it.” His grin shifted into something softer, something that made her stomach tighten. “So what do you need, Foster? A shoulder to cry on? A good old-fashioned cuddle? Or should we go back to brainstorming my favor?”_

_(-Shannon Messenger,_ Nightfall _, Pages 788-789)_

“Honestly? A _normal_ day,” Sophie answered, finally plopping down onto the grass beside him. “There’s just been so much going on lately, and…”

“You need a break,” he finished for her. She nodded and leaned onto Keefe’s shoulder, ignoring the flutters tickling her insides when he wrapped an arm snugly around her torso. 

“Exactly.” Sophie was relieved that he understood. She watched the fluffy blossoms drift lazily in the salty breeze, a hint of one of Calla’s peaceful songs ringing in her ears. 

For a little while, they just sat there quietly. It wasn’t an awkward kind of silence, though. This silence was content, wrapping its comforting weight around them like a warm fuzzy blanket in the coldest winter. It was incredibly tempting to succumb to the temptation of falling asleep on Keefe’s shoulder right then and there. Somehow, she found the willpower to resist.

Staring out at the scenery below them, it reminded her of something you would see in a painting. Then it clicked. _Painting_. She’d meant to ask Keefe about that since he gave her the portraits of her, Grady, and Edaline - and the one of their group together. 

“Hey, Keefe?” She lifted her chin off his shoulder to look at her friend properly. 

“Yeah?” Keefe shifted so he was facing her. Her heartbeat skipped into hummingbird mode - they were somehow even closer together than they had been. 

Sophie still didn’t understand _why_ she got those feelings. Curiosity was metaphorically killing her to understand, but she shoved the thoughts aside for the ten zillionth time. 

Before she could get a single word out of her mouth, Keefe smirked and fanned the air. “Your emotions are goin’ kinda whack on me, Foster,” he teased. “Is there something you wanted to say?”

Sophie blushed fiercely. “I-You-grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr,” She tugged on an itchy eyelash, dropping her gaze to the ground. Despite how flustered she was, the moonlark couldn’t help but laugh at his flirty wink. 

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. “You’re adorable when you’re frustrated,” he said. 

Sophie looked up to see that his features had softened into that heartwarming, lopsided smile again. She couldn’t help the tiny smile that spread across her face - his happiness was downright contagious.

Inside her mind, she imagined herself snapping a photograph of that moment and tucked it away somewhere safe. “What’s funny is that I actually did have something I wanted to say,” she said. “But _somebody_ teased me, and then talking was kind of difficult,” 

“Guilty as charged,” He grinned, and held up his hands in mock surrender. “Still not giving up teasing you, though. Making you blush is my favorite game. And it’s so easy!” He gestured towards her flushed face. 

Sophie took a deep breath, mentally counting to five before speaking. “I was _going_ to ask you if you could try teaching me how to paint.” She said. 

Keefe blinked. “That wasn’t what I was expecting,” 

Sophie arched an eyebrow. “What were you expecting?”

His ice blue gaze flitted up to the Panakes blossoms brimming along Calla’s branches as he tilted his head to the side. After a few thoughtful seconds, he answered. “Not sure,” he admitted. 

Brief silence fell over them, no longer than a heartbeat.

“Well, would you teach me?” Sophie repeated. 

“A chance to teach the Mysterious Miss F something she doesn’t know?” Keefe stood up and offered her his hand. “That’s pretty rare, Foster. Do you really think I would pass that up?”

Blushing, Sophie gripped his hand and hauled herself up. “Thanks, Keefe,” she said. 

Keefe looked up from digging around in his pockets. “Anytime, Foster,” he grinned. “Hmmm… I just realized my paint supplies are at Candleshade. Looks like we’ll have to go there first.”

“And after that?”

“I’m not the best at poofing plans out of thin air, unlike a certain elf I know,” he elbowed her in a friendly way, and she tried to scowl. But she wasn’t Bronte, and it didn’t come as easy to her as it did for the grumpy Councillor. Instead the attempt just resulted in a stifled grin. 

Just as Keefe fished out a clear leaping crystal, a squeaky voice called out from nearby, “Surely you didn’t forget about your bodyguard again, Miss Foster?”

She flinched and squeaked at the same time. “Don’t do that, Sandor! You scared me!” 

Sandor chuckled. “It’s not like a I try to.” His eyes added something else to the sentence, but she couldn’t clearly decipher the message. Like he was calling her out for something amusing. 

Sophie glanced over at Keefe. Either he wasn’t picking up on it, or didn’t know what it meant either.

She decided that dwelling on it wouldn’t help her out, so she extended one hand to Sandor, and the other to Keefe. He held out the crystal so it captured the light, casting a beam onto the grass. Nobody counted or cued when to step into the path - they simply stepped forward in unison. It was probably because they had performed the action so many times before. 

...

When the blinding light subsided, Sophie released Keefe and Sandor’s hands. The foliage of Candleshade was slightly unkept, which she thought was strange. Last time she had been here, it had been perfection. But now little cracks could be found in the welcoming archway, and a sad sort of air hung over the entire property. Maybe the gnomes had abandoned it? 

Keefe seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “This is weird,” he muttered. “I mean, it’s always felt sad to me here, but that’s a personal bias…” he trailed off, lost in thought. 

“Stick close together,” he advised. “Who knows what’s happened since we were here last?” 

Sophie gave him a dubious look. “Are you leaving us by ourselves…?” 

The goblin snorted. “When there’s potential danger, a good bodyguard never leaves their charge by themselves,” he replied. “What I’m _saying_ is that we should get into the building quickly.” 

Sophie was perfectly fine with that. Keefe reached for her wrist. Sophie laced their fingers together instead. Out of the corner of her eye, she could’ve sworn that she saw Keefe fighting back a smile. 

Sandor pushed open the golden doors to the ominous tower of doom, and the two friends followed suit. Though it took time, the trio eventually got all of the art supplies that they needed in order to paint. Going up and down and up and down the vortinator reminded her of just how much she hated it. Keefe even offered to carry her at one point, informing her that she wasn’t looking so good. Originally, Sophie had thought that he was joking, but a glimpse of the sincerity in his eyes made her revise the thought. She declined, but didn’t resist when he looped an arm around her torso to steady her.

The process passed by in a blur, and before she knew it, they were back in the foyer, heading for the golden entry doors. All of them were carrying supplies, including her. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. 

“Why are we heading outside?” 

“You zoned out for the entire epic argument between me and Gigantor, didn’t you?” 

Sophie bit her lip. Maybe she really _hadn’t_ been feeling well - she’d never been good with things that spun at high speeds. It made her nauseas for a short period of time. According to Amy, she _walked around in zombie-mode and didn’t focus on anything for a while, but then felt okay at a completely random moment._

“Yeah, I don’t remember any of that at all,” she admitted. 

“Well, I won, and we’re going to the solarium.” He stuck out his tongue at Sandor. The goblin just shook his head. “Well, unless you don’t want to go there, of course. I mean, anything works for me, but I just figured that you’d like the sunshine and being close to the outdoors, plus there’s a lot more references to work with. And it’s prettier.” 

He took a deep breath to continue, but Sophie cut him off. “I’m fine with whatever. I’m not picky, you know that,” 

Golden brown locked onto ice blue for a split second. Fondness brightened his irises, striking a chord on her heartstrings that she hadn’t known about until right then. Their smiles didn’t show on their faces, but in their eyes. 

They walked in a comfortable quiet for a few minutes afterward. Right before they rounded a corner, Keefe said, “Almost there, Foster.” 

Before she could reply, she couldn’t help but gawk at the gorgeous sight that greeted her. “Wow,” she breathed. “You weren’t kidding when you said it was pretty.” 

Lush greenery bloomed all over - some big, some small, some right in between. Vibrant colors popped among darker background shades. Sophie noticed patterns in how the plants were stationed, making fascinating shapes. Kind of like a nature mural that anyone could interpret differently. But it wasn’t neat, like she expected. It was a mildly contained kind of wild. Surprisingly, it made it feel more natural.

Keefe chuckled. “I remember helping the gnomes plant some of this. It was pretty fun - and a nice excuse not to do my homework. I got my pants and sleeves pretty dirty.” He rushed forward to a bush speckled with berries that reminded her of peaches and swiped two. Keefe held out the hand cradling them. “They’re super good, Foster. Like, _I-ate-all-the-berries-on-the-bush-the-first-time-I-tried-them-and-then-got-a-super-bad-stomach-ache_ good.”

She laughed, and accepted the small fruit with an eye roll. The taste of juicy peaches and hints of vanilla and honey unraveled on her tongue. She exhaled deeply, closing her eyes. After swallowing, she remarked, “Now I get why you ate an entire bush of these.” 

They both burst out laughing. Sandor snorted from up ahead. “You both say that you’re mature, and yet you give me evidence proving that the two of you are absolutely ridiculous.” 

“We’re still kids, Gigantor. We’re capable of being mature, but that doesn’t mean we have to be mature 24/7. Besides, fun people balance both. We do that, meaning that we’re cool,”

Sandor let out a long, weary sigh. 

Sophie giggled. But when they entered the solarium, the giggle morphed into a gasp. 

It was so much warmer in the glazed glass enclosure. Pale swirly designs were barely noticeable on the window panes, casting the faintest of shadows on the tiled floor. Vegetation unfurled their hearty leaves and blossoms, spilling over the rims of their pots. The potted plants lined the edges of the room. 

Unlike the rest of the unnerving 200 story tower, it felt… _homey_. 

Keefe broke away from her side to set up the foldable easel he’d been carrying under one arm in front of a comfy chair. Sophie immediately tasked herself with dragging the seat identical to the one Keefe was crouched in front of next to it. 

The light beige fabric of the barrel chair was much easier to grip than she had anticipated, and it was lighter than she had thought. Her temporarily bodyguard-less friend looked up and gave her a grateful smile just as she bumped the chair so the two were side by side. 

“I’ll be right outside the doors if you two need me, got it?” Sandor called. 

“Got it,” they chorused. 

“And Keefe?” 

He flicked his chin in acknowledgement. 

“Behave. I’m warning you.” And just like that, Sandor was outside. 

The boy chuckled nervously. “Fun times, right Foster? You know, just gotta avoid the wrath of That Dad.” 

“I won’t let Grady hurt you,” She promised. Sophie tried to smile, but it felt like a grimace. _Overprotective parents will be overprotective parents. Especially if it’s Grady_. 

Keefe placed a palette on their adjoined armrests and carefully squirted blue, yellow, red, and white paints onto it out of narrow tubes. Sophie wasn’t quite sure why she paid closer attention to the little things - like how adorable it was when the tip of his tongue poked out because he was concentrating. 

And why was that so cute? She did that too, and never once had she thought to herself, _Dang, I’m being absolutely adorable_. 

“Like the view, Foster?” Keefe teased. 

Sophie’s face felt like it was on fire. “Ye- I- um-” 

Keefe came very close to getting a dapple of red pigment on his sleeve, thanks to laughing so hard. “I’m just too hot to handle, aren’t I?” 

_Totally_. Somehow she managed to beseech, “Can you _please_ tone down your ego?”

Keefe smirked. “Nah. My ego is incapable of being contained,” He winked. “Just like me,”

Sophie grabbed a paint brush. “You are downright impossible,” 

“Downright impossible not to love,”

That time, she ignored him and decided that a subject change would be nice right then. “Okay, so _how_ do I paint?”

Keefe propped up his elbow on the armrest closest to her, cupping his chin as he leaned closer to her. “The very first thing you do is think about _what_ you want to paint. Since you’re just starting out, you should probably stick with landscapes. Which is why I thought the solarium would be a good place to paint, because there’s so many potential references in here.” With his free hand, he waved his hand towards their surroundings. 

Sophie thought about it. Something simple would be preferable. After all, she had almost no experience with paints - and the only times she had used paints for art were back in kindergarten and middle school, which only used watercolors and acrylics. A potted fern caught her eye. Surely that wouldn’t be too difficult?

“Okay, I think I’m sure-”

“You need to know you’re sure,” Keefe interrupted. “Trust me, starting out with an idea and then getting a better one totally screws up your motivation. I know from experience, Foster. I was trying to paint a flower once and then it turned into a super weird looking snapdragon thing.” 

“A fern sounds easy, right?” 

“Sounds like a good choice to me.” 

“Then yes, I’m sure.” 

“Great.” Keefe stood up and circled around to lean against her chair’s stuff-free armrest. “Next step is to picture what you’re painting on the canvas.” When all Sophie gave him was a confused look, he elaborated. “Like, what angle are you painting it from, what size is it gonna be, etc.” 

From that point on, he walked her through the basics of how to get “set up”, as he put it. Sophie hadn’t realized just how many elements there were to consider with something as simple as a fern - and Keefe had only given her the basic rules that you _had_ to go by. Then Keefe had kindly given her some tips as soon as she’d asked, such as starting with your “mid-tones” (the base colors) and then working your way towards adding highlights and shadows. 

He’d sat back down in his chair after getting her started with the very beginning of her painting, guiding her strokes. The physical contact, despite how minimal it was, had sent tingles down her arm. Hopefully Keefe hadn’t found the emotional spikes significant.

But she highly doubted that. 

At first, her individual strokes were unsteady. Her hand had been clenched so tightly that her knuckles were starting to hurt. But as she kept painting, her grip loosened up while she tried to just “Go with the flow” as Keefe had advised. And it worked. To a limited extent, but still. Something was better than nothing. 

It was far from perfect. The colors she had chosen for accents didn’t harmonize like she’d thought they would, but it wasn’t dreadful. Her brushstrokes contradicted each other, and there were many more flaws that she was acutely aware of. But overall? It didn’t look like absolute garbage, and it was a first attempt, so she thought that she did decent. 

Satisfaction rippled through her, soothing her cramping fingers a little bit. She allowed herself to relax in her chair. Sophie looked over to see what Keefe was doing. 

The proud owner of The Hair was curled up against the armrest pushed up beside hers, gazing at her through adoring half-lidded eyes. A sleepy kind of smile curled his lips. It looked like he had unpinned his cape to use the navy fabric as a blanket, even though it wasn’t even remotely cold in the solarium. 

Sophie froze, but she was far from chilly. 

Keefe’s gaze snapped back into focus. He cleared his throat. “I guess I’m the one staring now, aren’t I?” 

“Well...I’m staring too, so I think we’re both guilty on this one,”

He laughed softly. “I don’t mind.”

Sophie wasn’t sure what to think of that - much less this weird, fluttery bliss inside her chest and stomach. 

A sudden thought occurred to her. Maybe she would regret it later, but it sounded like a good idea to her at the moment. She grabbed her paintbrush - which still had fresh paint on it - and made a dot on the tip of his nose. “Boop.” 

Keefe gasped, smacking a hand over his heart. “Did you just boop me _with paint?”_

Sophie giggled. “Shameless,” She held up her hands. 

“Genius, is more like it,” He proceeded to take his paintbrush and splotch her nose as well. “Boop!”

She laughed, and got up to prance away. He mirrored her action, chasing her around the solarium. They still had their paint brushes in hand. 

Had someone told Keefe that she was extremely ticklish, or had he just made a dead-on guess? Either way, squeals and laughter cut through the air for quite a while.

Finally, Sophie collapsed back in her chair. “That… was really… fun,” She panted. 

Keefe slumped over the armrest. “Definitely,” 

The pair rested like that for a stretch of time. Due to exertion, Keefe was having a difficult time trying to keep his posture erect and kept drooping over the back of the chair and against her, but then he would straighten up again. The cycle repeated itself continuously.

After the umpteenth time this happened, Sophie smushed herself against the opposite armrest and patted where she had formerly sat. “Keefe, just sit next to me already. This is getting kind of ridiculous,”

He sighed. “If you start feeling awkward, make me sit on the floor immediately. Show no mercy.” 

“Okay.” She lamented. 

Keefe slipped into the seat with ease. Sophie snuggled into his side. What else could she do? Lean away? Plus, he was warm. There was nothing wrong with being warm. 

Or cuddly. Cuddly didn’t always mean romantic. 

Her gaze traveled over to Keefe’s canvas - and her eyes immediately widened. Life-like depictions of the two of them trotted side by side, popping berries in their mouths without a care in the world. Instinctively, she knew that they were laughing. It was what they had been doing earlier, on their way to the solarium. 

The portrait wasn’t an exact replica, though. Keefe had purposefully left out the supplies they had been carrying, as well as Sandor in the front. But that might’ve been from the view. 

Keefe followed her gaze, and scratched his head sheepishly. “Yeah, I know it’s not exactly what happened. Just another version of it. And I know I said a while back that art is all about honesty, but it’s also about using your imagination. And it’s a way to let out your thoughts without using words. That’s why I like art so much, I think. I’m bad with words, but I’m great with pictures - if you get what I mean.” 

Sophie nodded against Keefe’s chest. “I get what you mean.” 

He wrapped his arms around her and leaned back against the opposite armrest of where the palette still resided. His steady heartbeat against her ear was relaxing.

“Foster, I never told you that your painting looks awesome, did I?” 

“Hm? No. But it doesn’t look that good, so it’s fine.” 

Keefe clicked his tongue. “How are you so good at genuinely lying to yourself? It looks fantastic.” 

“It’s a _fern,_ Keefe. Not that hard.”

“Nothing has to be difficult to be beautiful.” 

Sophie decided to drop it. It was clear that neither of them were going to budge on their opinions. 

She felt Keefe shift underneath her, sitting up to grab something. Before she could ask what he was doing, he had already flopped back to his former posture. A slender, calloused finger brushed her cheek. “Foster, look up. Please,” 

Did she want to move? Not really. Sophie was perfectly content in her current position. But she propped her chin up on his chest anyways, since he’d asked politely. 

“Yes?” Directly afterwards, she squeaked when the moist bristles of a paintbrush met her forehead with two quick diagonal swipes. “Hey!” She protested. 

“X marks the spot,” Keefe said.

“Huh?” _What is he talking about?_

She got her answer almost immediately. Keefe cupped her face in his hands and pecked her forehead. 

The reaction was instantaneous. She spluttered, and heat rushed to her face so fast that she was confident she looked like a tomato. Deep down, no matter how embarrassed she was right then, she felt happy. Which was weird. 

Why would you be happy when you’re super embarrassed? It didn’t make sense. 

Keefe must’ve picked up on her emotions, because he immediately laughed and told her, “I did that _purely_ to embarrass you, Foster,” He smirked - but for some reason it didn’t look 100% genuine. The small little flicker of joy was snuffed out by disappointment. But her mood wasn’t totally spoiled by that. She still thought that the whole thing was hilarious. Why would he have meant that in a romantic way? They were only kids, after all. “It totally worked. Mission accomplished, I have destroyed my high score on Make Foster Blush!” He pumped his fist. 

She laughed. “You’re such a dork,” 

“And you love it,” He winked, and his grin tilted into his famous smirk. And this time, she could tell he meant it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Lol ok so I wrote this when I was twelve, so cut me some slack on the whole Keefe-kissing-Sophie's-forehead-when-there-was-still-wet-paint-on-it thing, please. To clarify, he's not getting paint in his mouth. It's just one of those cheesy eighth grader pecks, y'know?  
> Also, if anybody knows the HTML command to make text right-align, please let me know. I could use it for the summary since the citation didn't right-align when I copied and pasted it from the Rich Text thing. :/  
> Comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are all appreciated! Let me know if there's anything I should add in the tags. Have a great rest of your day/night!


End file.
